Vibrance
by rubacuori
Summary: Every year, a Year Thirteen from the Village is chosen to enter the Illuminator, a contraption that creates illusions of what the Other Past World was like, experiencing Feelings. They see the Joy we take for granted, and the Pain we dissolve in. Coming from a world so bland, the scenes are made magical before them. The illusions are ones we see each day. One Shot.


**Hi people. So I came up with yet another new story idea that I wanted to share with the world. I just hope it turns out OK. Please do review to support. Thanks.**

* * *

Vibrance

A Slightly Longer Than Usual One Shot

By Gemini126

* * *

"You have been selected at random to experience what none of us have before," she said to him, eyes monotone like her voice. "It is of upmost importance you take this seriously; I cannot quite describe what you will be feeling, but Number Twelve, I believe our leader calls it 'feelings'. Number Twelve; you have not just been selected to experience and gain wisdom of the Other World Past, but to be our Village's leader one day.

"You must understand, as well, how dangerous this is. Only every twenty years do we send a Thirteen into the Illuminator. You will be experiencing Pain, but you will also expirence Joy. Do you follow so far, Number Twelve?"

Number Twelve nodded his head solemnly. "I comprehend perfectly and thoroughly, and will with pleasure venture through the Illuminator." Hands clammy, he scrunched up his nose as the Guard of Ceremonies slipped a bottle out of her pocket.

She smiled a wry smile. "I see you do not appreciate medicines,"

He shook his head. "No, I do not enjoy medicines. They taste bitter." Number Twelve readied himself to take in the fluid. The Guard of Ceremonies poured the liquid into his mouth, it's dark color flooding from the bottle. Number Twelve cringed briefly. And then it was over.

Licking his lips, he peered over his shoulder towards the door of the REC. Number Twelve still held the tangy taste on his tongue, now flicking his tongue curtly to rid of it.

He cried out as he felt his knees and ankles stretch farther out. Curling his hands into fists, he listened to the snipping sound of his long, luscious mane. Opening his eyes, Number Twelve brought a finger to his face, and trailed down his cheek. It felt softer, and prettier to touch. He frowned. People weren't allowed to be beautiful in his Village. If they were, they were instantly drugged with something to destroy the way they looked. But now that he was leaving, Number Twelve felt smooth skin under his finger print.

He slid his pointer finger across his lips, and then spread his own hand out in front of him. Reaching out now to touch his ear, he felt nothing, for the ear was not there. Gasping lightly, his hands wandered up to the top of his head.

There were pointed things on his head. They were warm, and felt like furry skin. He'd never seen someone in his Village with ears on top of his head. Ever.

"Those are ears," The Guard of Ceremonies explained, chortling slightly. The weird sound of laughter made him shudder. Only people in the head of the Village were able to create such noise. "You're called Cat."

"Cat?" He repeated monotonously. "Cat? Cat?" Cat was what his Parental Units called the shape on his arm, his Mark of Birth. Cat.

"Hush now. We have places to be, Number Twelve," Gripping his shoulder lightly, she pushed him along out of the blank, alabaster colored Room and lead him to the Illuminator.

* * *

The Illumiantor was another Room, one of the only Rooms Number Twelve had ever seen that wasn't light. It was dark.

"This is the Illuminator. Things will get brighter as time passes. You will be in here for a little while; it will seem like for and ever to you, but in reality it will be very short. Are you ready, Number Twelve?"

"Yes, I'm ready, Guard of Ceremonies." He stood up tall, without his shoulders slouching. Tilting his head to the side, his eyes glimmered for a split second, then returned to their normal blandness. This didn't go unnoticed. The Guard of Ceremonies smiled. She knew she had made the right decision on which Year Thirteen to send into the Illuminator.

He coyly stepped into the room, his feet brushing against the ground. Number Twelve stood there, waiting for further instruction.

"Now close your eyeballs. And press your lips together," The Guard of Ceremonies directed. The Thirteen obeyed, and returned to waiting for the next word she would utter. "And now. In the other room, I made you drink that medicine, yes?"

Number Twelve nodded, eyes shut. "Yes."

"That medicine allows us, the heads of the Village and our leader, to create your trials. Remember. You will feel good. But you will also feel bad." She flicked the switch on the side of the Room up, and shifted closer to him.

"Ready?" She asked. "Things will start to make more sense as the trials go along."

"I am definitely ready." He said.

"Good future, Number Twelve," Her voice faltered. She quickly ran through the the door, as Number Twelve could feel his soft skin heating up. The door slammed close, as something began to occur inside and outside of him.

* * *

"Ah!" The sensation tickled. It burned. The movement crawled up his arms, wrapping tightly around him. Number Twelve dug his nails into the palm of his hand. He was feeling something. He couldn't quite describe it. But suddenly, he was used to it. It felt nicer. Softer. Lighter.

A little sound escaped his throat. Number Twelve had never heard it before. It sounded almost like one of his three sounds, Cry. The other two were Voice, and Scream. They all seemed the same to him. Cry was second loudest, Scream was loudest and used the most of his Energy. And Voice was just everyday sound. This sound was new, and unheard of. The word for it came instantly to him. Sigh. It was called Sigh. And there were different types of Sighs. This one was Happy Sigh. Light from little light bulbs. That's what they were called- the thing shining on him.

"You may open your eyes, Number Twelve." The Guard of Ceremonies' voice crackled through the speakers. Fluttering his eyes open, in front of him was him. A shadier version of himself, that did everything he did, including Happy Sigh.

"That is Mirror. They were banned from our community long ago because they supported Looks." Her voice was encouraging him to do some thing. She wondered if he would receive the note.

Now another 'feeling' coursed through his body. He defined it as Want. He Wanted to touch the mirror. Poking it lightly, he poked his nose. And then he chortled. His Heart rate sped up then, and he smiled.

"Stare into the Mirror"

Number Twelve glanced up. He saw something. His eyes were Blue. And his fur was Blue. And his hands were Blue. Blue. A Color.

Pinching at his Clothes, he listened to the intercom shut off with a shift. Number Twelve wanted to explore. He flung the Sweater over his forehead, noting its length. Short compared to his usual Clothes. Number Twelve liked how Pants felt comfortable. He unzipped them, and pushed them down to his ankles. Glancing up again, he now wanted to learn all about the Body. People weren't allowed to see bodies in his Village. They swallowed a candy that cleansed them while they slept, so there was no need for Baths.

Sliding his gloves off his hand, he squinted at the lines across his fingers. He flipped them over. More nonsensical lines. It was baffling.

His eyes widened at a hole down by his Stomach Feature. He stuck his finger inside. This was called Belly Button. Strange words were coming to his head all at once.

Chest. Back. Nipples. Backside. They were all fun to say, and rolled off his tongue.

"Chest" He pointed towards his Chest. "Nipples. Back." He pointed to those as well.

A sound that reminded him of Scream rung in his ears, perked up.

"And I told her she was being a little beeotch, and she godamn slapped me. Can you believe that chick?"'

More words, now from someone else's Voice. The name came to his head.

"Tobias?" Another Voice asked. "Do you see that?"

Number Twelve's eyes widened frantically. The two looked so abstract, so imaginary. One looked like fur in all different Colors rolled up into a Cloud. Another looked like the Moon, but Yellow. Number Twelve didn't know what Cloud and Moon were, but they came to his Thoughts like the other words. He had never felt Thoughts before.

"Bruh!" Tobias clasped a hand to his mouth. "Ho-ho! We caught Watterson with his pants down! That's a sink, not a urinal my friend!"

Number Twelve couldn't respond. Bruh? Ho-ho? They sounded even more foolish than Moon and Cloud.

"Haha!" Joe chortled, like Gumball had. Haha? Haaaaa-haaaa. They pointed and chortled, and chortled, and chortled. "He's blushing!"

Number Twelve was confused. Blush. Blushed. Blushing. It seemed mundane.

"Erm, yeah I know," Number Twelve stated hastily. He felt a whoosh of relief. Whoosh? Everything was so confusing. But somehow he felt proud. He wasn't allowed to sense pride in the Village. "I was just...um...I fell on my stomach and was just checking for black and blues." Was Black and Blues a Color? He pointed to his own Stomach Feature.

Suddenly, he felt heat in his face. Like Sun. But it wasn't Sun. It felt less pleasant then Sun. He called it Embarrassment.

"Whatever floats your boat bro." Tobias shrugged. "Just get to class. Simian sent us hunting for you. She was throwing a tantrum! Her face was baboon-ass red, I swear to God! I literally almost shit myself."

"Hehe!" Another strange Vocal sound from the Moon, like a chortle. Or a laugh.

"OK. Just let me get dressed." He tugged his jeans to his waist and pulled his sweater over his head. Now the words were coming casually out of his mouth. He even sounded at ease.

"C'mon Joe, Gumball. Let's bounce!" Tobias then, right in front of Gumball's eyes, melted. His body tuned to goo, along with Joe. He gasped. Gasp.

They were sticky puddles at his feet. He looked up and saw the colors, Beige and red, were changing. The Village was giving him a different experience.

"You have now learned quickly, Number Twelve. You learned Body and Embarrassment." The intercom recited. "That was a very basic and mundane transmission. The next ones to come will be memorable, we assure you Number Twelve."

Now it was something else. A Blue Room. It had other colors on smaller walls pasted to the wall. They were called Posters, thought Number Twelve.

"You will now invite in Joy. Relish it. Then we will transmit to you Fear."

Number Twelve felt a new Emotion. It was stronger than Embarrassment. It was what the Guard of Ceremonies had named Joy. Opening his eyes wider, Number Twelve stare deeply into the eyes of someone he didn't recognize. This person had a different shape.

"Gumball! You're awake!" Darwin touched Number Twelve's hand. A little zap shot through him. Grinning, Number Twelve placed both of his palms on Darwin, the Orange, and pressed their bodies together. Hug.

He liked how a Hug felt. Under his ankles he sensed a material called Sheets. It was light colored, and wrinkled. Bed.

"Hey dude!" He chorused happily, chest pressing firmly. Number Twelve wanted the Hug to last for and ever. He didn't understand why. Then it came to him, making murky waters clear. Friendship. It was a bond. That's why he enjoyed it. He'd studied bonds in Lessons.

Darwin slid his arms around Number Twelves body, their cheeks smashed together in a brotherly embrace. Brothers. What were those?

"Why are you so touchy? Are you OK man?" Darwin inquired, concern in his voice. "We were going to go outside and play in the rain. But you just, like, passed out."

"Rain?" He repeated. "Play?" Those had not entered.

"Gumball. You speak English don't you? Let's go. You promised!" Darwin handed Number Twelve a plastic Yellow object. Umbrella.

Another thing worthy of questioning that had not come to him: what was Gumball?

"Wait!" Number Twelve halted Darwin. Darwin turned around on his heel, wearing a Hat and perplexed expression.

"Yeah?"

"What is a Gumball?"

Darwin giggled at this. Number Twleve liked how it sounded. The Sound was pleasing to his earlobes.

"You're Gumball, silly!" Darwin trotted over and poked Number Twelve's nose. "Now come on. I'm bored. You promised to hang with me outside!"

Number Twleve chortled aloud. He was Gumball? Was that his Name? He'd never had a Name before. Just a number among his fellow Year Thirteens.

Darwin melted then, but he didn't vanish like Tobias and Joe had at School. He reappeared in front of Number Twleve, with the Umbrella by his head.

Drip. A sound that didn't come from his throat. Number Twelve gaped at the little crystals pouring down beneath him, and leaving. They were tiny, and cold. And they fell onto his Body repeatedly. He shaded his eyes from the Rain, his conscious telling him to do so. The vicinity was dark, but all different Dark Colors. Clouds appeared. They were fluffy and plump looking, just like the boy he had met by the Mirror. The crystals were wet. Wet. What a brisk, funny word.

"Splash!" Darwin cried with Joy, stamping onto a pile of the little crystal droplets. "Come on, man! Don't just stand there!"

Number Twelve touched the puddle with his foot. He didn't feel anything. He was wearing Foot Clothes. How intriguing. He copied Darwin's wild motion. It was great Fun, he discovered, although he hadn't a clue what else could be Fun.

"Weee!" The sound didn't bother "Gumball" one bit. It almost felt typical, plain. He hopped up and down, smiling and laughing gleefully. He felt his ears slice the air, and he felt his blood pulsing. It was marvelous, Number Twelve countered. Simply exquisite.

A loud, roaring sound crashed through them. Lightning, this one came quick to Number Twelve. He stared up, from under his Hat, and sucked in his air.

"Gumball! Run!" Darwin ordered frighteningly. "It's a storm! Get in the house!"

The shape of lightning fascinated Number Twelve. It was a little light, and it flashed quickly across the Sky. It looked like it had been cut by scissors on each side. Number Twelve attempted to discover the meaning of scissors.

"Dude! Get in!" Darwin was on the porch, waving him over. Another Lightning sound crashed and throbbed in his hear. He sprinted off, sensing an adrenaline rush, towards the Big Room. He felt fear. His heart was pounding, his breath short.

"I'm in, I'm in! That was so cool!" The words fit perfectly together.

"No it wasn't! We could have gotten struck!" Darwin scolded. Number Twelve felt slight...displeasure at this.

"Yes. But before was beautiful."

Darwin's lips formed into a smirk. "Yeah. I love rain."

Then, like all of his encounters, Darwin melted. So far, Number Twelve hadn't felt any pain. Although watching his mates vanish was a little...odd sensing. But it wasn't Pain. Even if he was now frowning.

"I am sorry, Number Twelve" The Guard of Ceremonies apologized. "You will now see Love, and Music."

"It is fine." He replied monotonously.

Again, the colors set in front of him began to change. There were more now. They were vibrant. And beautiful, but not in the same way Rain had been.

An unfamiliar noise flew into his ears. It had something known as Rhythms. It had Voice, but the Voice sounded sweeter and higher. Singing, countered Number Twelve. Music.

He really, really liked music. It was Fun. He swayed back and forth, and his waist moved side to side. Dancing!, he droned. He loved it. As he spun around, shamelessly smiling, he bumped into an object.

"Hey, Gumball!" A melodious voice blushed. Except it wasn't the Blush Joe had pointed out. Her Voice had Blushed. Number Twelve didn't even know a sound could do the same things as a body.

"Hi!" He now felt self conscious, looking himself up and down as his feet tapped away at the floor. He was at a Party. There were people, they were Dancing. Fun.

"Do you want to...dance with me?" Penny. Her name was Fun. Penn-neeee. Number Twleve felt his heart stop, the opposite of what it had been with Darwin in the Rain.

"Um. OK." He followed Penny, as she grasped his hand. Number Twelve continued to walk, but inside he was a mess. Penny was so pretty- illegally pretty. And her hand was so soft. He felt his legs tighten as he walked.

Without really giving any thought to it, he placed his arm over Yellow Penny's shoulders slyly. He smirked, not taking his eyes off her beauty. Number Twelve had never seen a girl so beautiful. So thin, so slender, so mouth watering. He couldn't take it. It was stronger than he ever imagined.

Penny placed her hands on his shoulders, and he placed his on her waist. A slower Music came on. Perfect. She smiled, shining as her Wings flapped. Leaning her head on Number Twelve's, she Sighed. Happy Sigh.

He let out his own Happy Sigh. Tensing up a little, he pressed their noses together and deeply searched her eyes. Something is going to occur shortly, he thought, I don't know what, but I hope it's not Pain.

Penny caressed his cheek now. Number Twelve was loosing his mind. He wondered if it showed on his Face. Then, she placed her lips on his. They were crisp from being licked, plush and inviting. Number Twelve liked inviting, like Penny's lips. The lip touch was called a Kiss.

Number Twelve had been taught Kiss was disgusting, and wrong, and illegal in his Village. But it didn't seem that way. It seemed enjoyable, and lovely. Rebellious.

But Number Twelve wasn't satisfied entirely, no. He knew there was more than just this. He opened his mouth and slid his own Tongue into her willing mouth. Their tongues collided, and groped, and Number Twelve cherished every moment of it. He felt around her shoulders, her back. He clutched her in his arms tightly. He wanted to feel her against him. Make-out.

Her body began to ooze and melt to goo in his arms. The scene faded away, the Music pumping in his earlobes, a memory.

He swallowed. All that was left of her was a puddle on his shoes. He began to Release. He was sobbing. Wet like Rain tears slipped off his smooth cheeks and onto Penny's puddle. He felt swarmed with emotion. One he couldn't explain.

He placed his tongue on a tear and tasted it. It tasted Salty. Salt. Salty. He liked how it felt, but he was still overwhelmed.

"Now is where Pain begins to come in, Number Twelve. You will now see Food, and Sadness, which you have begun to feel." Said The Guard. Number Twelve felt each "feeling" being stored into his Body.

Now, he saw a structure. Table. It had shapes on it. Colors, too. Pizza. Burger. Juice. They reminded Number Twelve of his bread and medicine drink that he ate and drank every day. It was bewildering to think other Food existed.

Soda. Chips. Turkey. Rice. He piled the Rice into his hands and gulped it up. He plucked at a Chip, and crunched on it. Number Twelve looked around now.

The room was buzzing with people. One looked like him, but taller. Another was Pink, and another Pink. And Darwin, Orange. Family, he muttered. Family.

"Gumball! Who put out the junk food? Eat the turkey!" Mother called. Number Twelve nodded.

"OK Mom!" He grasped a piece of the Turkey's skin and pulled and pulled until it ame off. He bit down on it, pigging out. Swallowing it down, his tears were dry.

"Yum!" He moaned in delight.

"It's real good this year, Mom!" A Pink creature chirped. He felt prelate five of the Pink thing. It had a feminine voice, like Penny. Anais. Sister. Her Name and Occupation.

"It's all mine!" Number Twelve teased, wrapping his arms around her. He placed his hands on her eyes. "Boo!"

"Gumball, stop it!" She swatted him away. Things were starting to make sense to Number Twelve. "Mom! Bring out the mashed potatoes!"

It looked like a Feast, like a Party. Thanksgiving, Number Twelve thought. A holiday in the United States. A Country.

"OK, honey!" Mother called from the Cooking Vicinity, Kitchen. Number Twelve clapped his hands together.

"Oh yeah!" He cheered. His voice had never had such emotion. Darwin strolled in with the potatoes.

"Mashies coming right up!" Darwin joked, placing the bowl and wooden spoon on the Table.

Number Twelve picked up the spoon, staring at the potatoes hungrily, when they too began to melt like every vision had. Darwin and Anais became nothing but puddles of Water. And the room, Dining Room, flashed away.

He now felt enraged by this. Number Twelve groaned. He could hear the wicked smiles of his Village.

"Time is running thin. The memories are going to be shorter; but more Painful. We gave you long happy memories. Be ready for brief trauma."

Number Twelve gulped apprehensively, sitting on the bare Black for of the Illuminator.

Another illusion formed as he Sad Sighed. It was a street, full of children. They were all over, roaming around because it was Summer and they wanted to be with friends. This gave him great pleasure. He expected Pain. But so far, it was simple and Fun to observe.

Something hit him in the Back. He yowled in Pain, cringing. He whipped around to see the other boys from his School holding rocks.

"What are you gaping at, twat?" Tobias cackled meanly, stepping closer to aim. Rock in hand, he flung it at his shoulder. Falling to the ground, Number Twelve carried his arm, having back and forth in Pain. It felt awful, it came out of nowhere. And here it was. Cold and pure.

"You...you dipstick!" He cried, tears beginning to slither down his cheeks. The words they were using: Number Twelve knew them to be disgraceful and filthy. But if he used any other word to describe Tobias, it wouldn't have the same effect he wanted it to. He felt their desire to INJUR INJUR INJUR throughout his Body. He saw it in their beady eyes.

Red. A ball named Clayton took the next shot at his leg. The rock plunged into Number Twelve. "Oh...my...God! You freaks!"

They laughed. But not pleasant laughing. Cruel laughter.

The rest of the group of males began to repeatedly injur Number Twelve. They threw what felt like dozens of rocks at him, as he bawled on the street. His face against the concrete, he sniffed.

The boys melted away. Still crying his eyes out, he felt a small scrap of hope in his chest.

But more Pain was to come. And it was worse than rocks. It was inside now.

The suburban scenery faded away like it always did, and took on the appearance of a funeral home, where they placed people who died. Death. Sad. Coffin. His Mother had died of Cancer, an illness or disease of some sort. Then, another flash. Now, they were just images. Images that tore up at him.

He saw children in a continent called Africa suffering, wearing torn clothes. He saw a child dying in it's Mother's Stomach Feature, watching with the Doctors. Number Twelve watched as a family threw their Teen out of their house because apparently their Teen was dating someone of their gender. He learned it was called LGBT. He devoured a scene of a Year Ten getting picked on. A female getting laughed at because she hadn't developed as much as the other females in her Year.

Tears were escaping his eyes. The Village had given him the Joy first, and Pain last. Now, he couldn't think of his Joy any more. Just of all the problems. The Pain. It killed him. He felt like dying.

"What is this?" He cried, curled up into a ball on the floor of the Illuminator. "How could anything so terrible have existed? Why? WHY? TELL ME!"

"Please" He sniffles. "I'm begging you. Get me out. I've seen enough!"

"I apologize Number Twelve. There is one more for you to experience. One last event. Then you are complete. It has almost been three days." The Guard of Ceremonies spoke through the microphone. Her voice showed no care.

"JUST PLEASE... Stop..." Number Twelve pleaded, banging his fists on the ground beneath his Body. "Oh, it's terrible! I'm shaking!"

The Illuminator again transformed its appearance into another illusion. Now, Number Twelve saw something that wiped away his tears.

Sunset. They were trying to erase his memory of terror.

Eyes widening, he stuck his Feet into the sand of the Beach. Wearing skimpy Trunks, he gaped at the Sunset in shock of its vibrant color, it's utter beauty. It shined like Penny. It was this mixture of Purple, Orange, Yellow. It hung over the Ocean, and he watched the waves compliment it.

Bending down, he stuck his Hand into the Salt Water. He swayed it around, enjoying the cool feeling. Still a bit shaken from the last events, he let the Sunset relax him.

He lay himself out onto the sand, and closed his eyes. Number Twelve folded his arms behind his head and smiled somewhat tartly. The crisp air and the breeze soared across his bare chest.

He felt it fade, with the smile still on his Face. Standing up, he opened his brilliant blue eyes to see a Year Thirteen Crown set on the floor. It was pointed at the top, and covered in gold. Number Twelve placed it over his head. It fit just perfectly. He finally had his crown. His childhood was complete. His Adulthood was granted. He'd served his purpose.

Walking out of the Illuminator, he went to join his other Year Thirteens. With each step he took, the memories came flooding back into his mind. He could think now. Nobody else could. But he could.

"Greetings, Number Twelve." Number Seventeen waved as he walked past to the Mathematics Room, where he would be given his adulthood and purpose: Teacher. Number Twelve was to be leader someday. Only Leaders of the Village could feel. Have "feelings".

This saddened him a little. But he waved brightly at Number Seventeen. "Call me Gumball." He asked monotonously.

Adjusting his crown, Number Seventeen cracked a barely visible smile.

* * *

 **So, there you have it. A little weird. Based off The Giver in some ways. Read it!**

 **I may make a novel like it at a later time if enough people like it. Please review with your thoughts and comments! It would be really appreciated! I worked really hard on this- I wrote it all in a few hours.**

 **Thanks a mil for reading.**

 **~ Julia ~**


End file.
